The Adventures of Rippa the Great
by Aurora Kinship
Summary: In which a random mood from the author leads to some drabble which leads to this story. Just some fun I like to have, so if you like, come and join me. You have as much a clue as I as to where this is going; but isn't that half the fun?
1. Weddings

A/N: So glad you dropped by! The ensuing story is slightly nonsensical, because that was my mood when I began writing it. So pull up a seat and share your thoughts with me at the end. Wanna know how? Just press the pretty purplish button. With much love, Aurora.

Once Upon A Time there lived a Duchess.

She wouldn't have believed you if you called her beautiful. Pretty, perhaps she would allow, but honestly, her looks never really occurred to her. All she really knew was that no one ran away at the sight of her screaming "EWWWW! EWWW!" like her crush at five years old had when she tried to kiss him. So she figured that was a good sign.

And most of the time she was happy. Being a Duchess had its perks, after all. The finest silks for her dresses, the most exotic perfumes for her toilette, the beautiful balls, the dancing, you get the picture. So we understand that she was quite content and pleased with her station in life, thank you very much.

Except when someone was getting married.

Then, she just hated it.

It wasn't that she wasn't happy for the lovely couple-whoever they were this week-it was just that she could not understand the appeal of gathering together as many strangers as you possibly could and forcing them to make polite conversation while you stressed and sobbed over every minute detail of the proceedings. I mean, honestly.

And then, of course, they ask you to be a bridesmaid. And in some heinous delusion of monumental proportions the bride manages to find the most hideous…thing…to ever pretend to be a dress. And you're supposed to sit there and generally attempt to believe the most outrageous lie anyone has ever tried to tell. "If you shorten it, it could be a cocktail dress you'll wear for ages!" Uh huh. Sure.

She just couldn't understand. These were girls she had attended the Royal Academy with and-for the most part- they were sensible, reasonable. And yet they insisted on marrying straight away these men they had met only two days before. Usually after the supposed prince/traveler/adventurer had killed some poor beast that had only been trying to do its job and guard the respective tower and/or castle. Some random armed wanderer with a penchant for murdering kingdom employees didn't exactly sound like a dreamboat to Rippa.

And then she had to go to these things and then spout off assurances that she just **knew** that the couple would live happily ever after and make beautiful little heirs…well, there's only so much of that type of thing one can take.

So that's why Rippa found herself-instead of expiating on this most recent couple's surely most wondrous future- hiding in the garden just off of the ballroom-turned-pre-wedding breakfast-room, reading.

She would've been paying attention inside if they hadn't invited the most boring people they could possibly scrounge up for the occasion. In fact, she wouldn't have even been at the castle if she hadn't had to go to the reception. So, Rippa decided, it was really all the stupid wedding's fault that she was now bumping crossways on the arse of the horse of some bumbling idiot who kept insisting that she was a princess in need of rescuing. She sighed. Damn it, this was going to be a very long day.


	2. Horses

A/N: Dedicated to Slipshod. Because she's way cooler than you and was my first ever reviewer D Anyways, huzzah for plot movement! Drop me a line when you're finished. Pretty please? What if I sent you some snowmen for your very own? magic hat not included...

It wasn't that she had a thing against the Prince Charming idea. No, really, she didn't. Traveling actually sounded kind of nice; full of adventure, seeing all of the wonders of other civilizations. She actually quite felt that that type of lifestyle would quite suit her personality. It was simply the blatant sexism of the industry she found vile. Oh, and the fact that they seemed quite incapable of finding men with an IQ of something greater than a troll.

_Honestly, _she thought,_ they send these idiots to propose peace or save countries, and they wonder why our foreign relations are terrible. _

"Almost there, Princess, back to my home, where we will soon be wed!" he pompously exclaimed.

"For the last time I am **not** a princess, I really cannot comprehend why you will not understand that and WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!" Rippa yelled.

"That we are almost at the castle, where I will present you, once again, to my parents. Now, I understand if you would like to be married immediately, but it really isn't traditional in these situations, and I really must insist that you hold back your undying love for me so that we can hold a proper wedding. I do believe you look lovely in those fluffy dresses you women love to wear, and perhaps a nice shade of puce for the bridesmaids and---"

Now, Rippa had been momentarily struck speechless by the man's apparent lack of comprehension and overboard stereotypical assumptions. It was surreal, up until he mentioned the word bridesmaid, which reminded her of what she was currently wearing, and the horrors of insipidness she would suffer quite soon if she did not regain her voice. Luckily, she found it.

"ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANE?!! NO, I WILL NOT MARRY YOU, YOU GIT, WHAT IN THE SAM HILL ARE YOU THINKING?! YOU ARE POSITIVELY RIDICULOUS! GET ME OFF OF THIS HORSE'S SMELLY BUTT AND STOP BEING SUCH A PINHEADED PRAT! I'M THE FREAKING DUTCHESS OF YORK, NOT A PRINCESS, NOTE THE LACK OF CROWN, YOU EMPTY-HEADED MORON AND **I WILL NOT BE CARRIED LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES, SO PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!!**"

Our heroine's…um…outburst had lasted all the way inside the castle to the great hall, and, either in a severely misguided attempt at chivalry, or in an instance of sheer dim-wittedness, was currently carrying Rippa upside down over his shoulder, while simultaneously attempting to avoid well-aimed kicks at his more sensitive areas. Logic seemed to finally reach him as she began to use language even self-respecting sailors don't use, and he put her down.

Disheveled, quite red in the face and rather exhausted-_all muscle and no brains, she sneered-_ Rippa turned and found herself in the presence of the King and Queen. All she could think as she goggled up at the royal pair was:

_Well, I guess I won't be making it to that wedding after all._


	3. I'm WHO?

A/N: Hello there all! Just a bit more plot set up this time around. Let me know what you think…I always enjoy your ponderings on my randomness…

Now thoroughly embarrassed, Rippa took the first possible opportunity to stare intently at the ruined satin of her shoes, as if the mud stains were the keys to the universe, or at least the way out of this one. She peeked up once, to see the bumbling idiot (excuse me, prince) embracing his parents unabashedly. _Aw, that's sort of sweet, _she considered. _Wait, where in Helsinki did that__ come from? Hello, Earth to Rippa! This is the moron who KIDNAPPED you, in case you've forgotten, not to mention that he won't get it through his head that I'm not—_

"…The long lost Princess." Rippa's thoughts were cut off by the turn of the discussion.

"However," the Prince frowned, "She doesn't seem to remember."

"Well now that would be difficult, taking into account the fact that I AM NOT, NOR EVER WAS, A PRINCESS." Rippa chimed in. Turning to the King and Queen, she added, "I have my family tree, your highness…es. My family, the Duchy of York, has a renowned and respected bloodline going back almost—"

"Enough," the king stated coldly, "You have disobeyed and disgraced both our kingdoms far too many times before. I would not be surprised if you paid off some poor lower-nobility to place you on their family tree. In fact, I am absolutely certain that is exactly what happened. You will go to your room, Juliet, and remain there until your wedding."

"Lower-nobility? Excuse me?! And who is this Juliet person? "

"Did I not just say enough? Dearest Prince, please escort our ward to her bedchambers. "The prince merely nodded, shaking with withheld laughter as Rippa was dragged out of the hall by two burly castle guards, hell-bent on continuing her tangent:

"Gracious, it's like you people have all gone mad! Absolutely barking! No sane person kidnaps a poor girl as she sits reading contentedly in a garden, and then throws her over a horses butt as a proposal. It's no wonder women get married so quickly-if that's the proposal, she's probably terrified of what would happen if she refused! And here you all are, camped out in Crazyville, and you all look at me like I'm the one who's out of her tree!"

The perfectly coiffed Queen, who, up until this moment had been uncharacteristically silent, gazed at the spirited young girl currently being hauled across the floor of her reception room-hair a mess, muddy, and clad in the tatters of a hideous dress-and giggled. Shifting to face her shocked husband, who had never been spoken to in quite that way, she said with a broad grin;

"You've got to admit, dear, she's got style."


	4. A notsodaring escape

A/N: i'm so terribly sorry i haven't updated in awhile. i must admit i was distracted by life in general, and a bit discouraged from the lack of interest. but if anyone is out there and still likes this, i humbly dedicate my oddness to you.

So the castle was beautiful. And maybe it was the best use of the Baroque style she'd ever seen. And she might even admit that the bed she was currently lying on made her bed at home seem like a cot.

_But you can only spend so many hours in admiration of the gilt,_ Rippa thought, _before you're forced to realize that a cage is a cage is a cage._ Rippa, being more perceptive, and perhaps a bit more resentful than most, already come to terms with that fact. And had spent her day working the old pins out of the hinges of the door with the very handy nail file she was playing with. _I, for one, _Rippa grinned, _have an entirely new appreciation for beauty products. _

The large picture windows to the left of the bed _Sealed, of course, Rippa reflected bitterly;_ overlooked the restless sea underneath the moonlit night.

"Full moon," she said to no one in particular, "strange things are supposed to happen then, right? Well, I suppose I did need a bit of shaking up, but this is simply ridiculous."

The clock struck twelve; Rippa slithered over to the doorway and pressed her ear to the smooth wood, intent on hearing the snores of the fat old guard. Satisfied, she stood up; bracing her shoulder against the door as she pried the pins out the remaining way.

She let out a choked kind of groan as she stumbled under the sudden weight, and added a few silent expletives to that as she accidentally dropped the corner on her toes. She tugged and wiggled, but all that seemed to do was entangle that horrid dress further, and didn't relieve the pressure on her toes.

It was a long and epic battle betwixt our heroine and the inanimate object, but she eventually persevered, minus a chunk of the puce fabric of her dress. Not that she really minded; but she felt the need to stick her tongue out at the door anyways, just for form.

When she was at a safe distance, of course.


End file.
